Fall of the Fåfänga
by Peryiite
Summary: The Fåfänga were a proud clan of Dunmer whom thrived in Morrowind. In 4E 05 When the Fåfänga are faced with the tragic threat of the Red Year, they decide to make the journey to Skyrim as refugees and start over their lives in Winterhold. - A prequel about my reoccurring Dunmer clan in the Elder Scrolls series.


_The 15th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 05._

_**Along the Dunmeth Pass**_

A storm wasn't ideal for travel, but they had no choice. Clutching a bundle tightly to her breast, a Mer walked among her young family, trying her best to keep her child covered. She hummed softly and dared not to expose it to such surprising cold. This foreign province was already rejecting them, she could feel it in every staggered step through the snow. This discomfort, they had no choice but to endure along the Dunmeth pass. "How much longer must we travel, husband?" She turned her face, momentarily pulling away her hood. Her gaze inquisitive on her love, a tall Dunmer with a serious disposition. He was clearly focused on leading them out of this. "We don't have much longer to go." He paused, staring ahead into the blizzard. "Our comfort will come when we reach Windhelm. There, we can find refuge. A meal, a nice fire to warm ourselves. For now, just keep Vittora's skin covered." He glanced to assure his wife. "Perhaps we made a mistake… I'm not sure how long we'll fair in this. Perhaps we should have stopped at Refugee's Rest-" "No. It was much too crowded and untrustworthy, if you ask me. We are above the panicked crowd who would surely slit our throats and steal our children if they knew what we carried." He huffed with anger. "I won't let anything happen to you or the children. Not when we just started. Now, we're carrying on, we'll be there soon."

"Ugh…" The Mer cupped her cheeks with disdain, rubbing her picking skin while her husband was making the arrangements with the Inn Keeper. She kept a sharp eye on the faces of humans who riddled the room, ale and mead clattering among hushed whispers. It was clear there was going to be some conflict if they weren't careful. Her son was at her side, complaining every possible ail that she felt maximized from keeping Vittora safe. "Silence, Viiltryn." She snipped. "_Thank you. I'll show you and your… lovely family your room immediately."_ The Nord spoke, catching her attention as Vilvaan motioned for them to follow. She was more than glad to leave the gawking Nords.

He'd rented the suite for the four of them. Nothing more could accommodate them, and though it was a very basic room, Vilvaan supposed it had a certain rustic charm they could appreciate. "This is their best..?" His wife began, jabbing slightly at the decor. "It's got its own hearth, my love. Don't be ungrateful for the temporary. I suspect many Dunmer will freeze tonight." He stepped into the heat of the fire, unveiling his body from the thick fur cloak he'd been hugging. Even in the darkest times Vavvera always kept a critical eye, expecting the best for herself. Though he knew that's what she was used to, and what she deserved. "Is Vittora alright?" "Yes, she's fine." Her voice softened, now laying the bundle down on the duvet to uncover her precious daughter. The baby stretched out her ash toned arms and clawed for her attention. "Ah, she's happy to be here." Vilvaan smiled, leaning over his wife's shoulder to glance down at their latest addition to the family. "We're truly blessed by the Reclamations for giving us this chance." Vilvaan placed his hands gently on his wife's waist, resting there for a moment. "Yes..." Vavvera whispered, her eyes closing. She was still having trouble getting feeling back in her face, but her mind was at ease knowing now they were going to be alright. They had made it to civilization and away from the dangers of Morrowind and though they had lost so much at least there was a chance to live. Still, it was a concerning where Vilvaan had chosen to flee. "Skyrim seems so… cold. I'm not sure if I can endure it." "_Cold,_ yes. But welcoming of our immigration. We will get used to it and build our name and fortune so that we won't _have_ to endure it." He chuckled softly. "Sacrifices are necessary, and Azura's testing us." He rubbed her gently. "Suppose she is… but what will you do? We have no political leverage here and surely you won't revert to petty chores…." "I've already thought it all out." Vilvaan turned away from his wife, patting his son's head gently while reflecting. His boots thudded against the floor and Vavvera noted how remarkable it was that her husband could function with such heavy attire.

"A _Sellsword?_" "Temporarily, as I have in Morrowind. I plan on traveling back to Vvanderfell and helping efforts there as well." Vilvaan sat in a chair next to the fire, discussing the plan. "So you're going to leave me all alone in this place?" "No! No, my darling. I'm going to establish us a nice place and send money back for you for a while. I'll return soon enough and I know you'll be fine with the proper arrangements." He glanced to his son. "And, you always have Viiltryn here to protect you, should you need a man around the house." He smiled softly as the boys' eyes lit up. "…Oh yes, yes! We'll be fine Mother." Her tiny son urged. "…Sweet of you Viiltryn, I know you will but I just don't want to part with your father. Especially here, the population seems unfriendly." "Oh, we won't be staying here love. Windhelm is a stop on our trip. In fact, tomorrow we'll be setting off north of here." "_Further_ into the cold?" Vavvera's voice was laced with venom. "_Is that even possible?_" She shook her head, coddling Vittora in her lap. "Winterhold. It's a major city famed for its Mage's College. The arcane arts suit you my love, and it's a bustling area close to the sea like our old home. We may even be able to see Red Mountain from the coastline." "…I need no reminding of our tragedy." Vavvera's eyes sunk to the floor, studying the creases in the timber. "Perhaps not today, but when the pain fades and longing sets in… we'll be able to look from afar at what was once our great home." "…I suppose so my love, I suppose."

Vavvera awoke to the knocking of some impatient fool. She heard her husband stir, cool air rushed over her back as he rose from his place. Too sleepy to glance over her shoulder, the dark elf listened intently to the sounds in the room. The unlocking of the door and the cordial greeting of some Nordic accent. "Vilvaan Fåfänga? I've made it here on time as instructed, my lord. The carriage is waiting and ready for your family." He sounded young, and his news forced the matriarch up. "Excellent. We will be decent soon enough." He looked down to the boyish figure, who nodded respectfully. Vavvera's mouth twitched in delight when she realized he looked sort of frightened.

Good, she would like that if they were afraid. They had a very uncertain future ahead of them, one which she would no doubt have the upper hand if she could inspire fear in these fair foreigners who suddenly surrounded them. With Vilvaan suited up for the weather, her son's morning appetite sated and her baby bundled for the trip, the Fåfänga were ready to venture up to this mysterious new place they would call home.

**_Notes:_**

_Hope you enjoy my darling characters. I've worked very hard on them, though I admit this is really a prequel to my main character whom isn't born yet. This is, however, her family. I'm really having fun writing all this down and I think it's probably a good idea I do this so I have some kind of record to keep track, aha._

_A small timeline following the lives of the most recently wedded couple and their children to come._

_3E 432 – Vilvaan and Vavvera Fåfänga are wed._

_3E 433 – Viiltryn's born._

_4E 02 – Vittora's born._

_4E 05 – Red Year, fled to Winterhold._


End file.
